The Shave
by JulyGirl90
Summary: A short little one-shot at the cabin of the Cranes.


**Just a short little one-shot about those beautiful souls that are Ichabod and Katrina Crane. Post-finale. I own nothing of Sleepy Hollow except an unhealthy obsession... Enjoy!**

If there was one thing Katrina Crane loved about this century, it was the hot showers. They were a glorious feeling to experience. Stepping out, she picked up the shirt Ichabod had given her the first night she spent here with him. Many months had passed since then, but she found she still preferred it to the more modern night clothes of this era. When she wore it, she felt as though Ichabod's very arms were around her, holding her close with warmth and love. Slipping it over her head, she moved to stand before the mirror to begin brushing her wet hair. She discovered that preparation for bed was much simpler in this era than in the one in which she had been born. No corsets or puffy dresses to climb out of. The natural look which she now wore was much preferred to her previous life.

Nearly finished with her task, she suddenly heard Ichabod let out a curse. Laying the brush down, she exited the bathroom and ventured to the front of the cabin. Before the fireplace sat Ichabod upon the couch. He was currently leaning over a bowl of water, attempting to shave that ghastly beard he had allowed to nearly get out of control.

They had all been so busy since her and Miss Mills subsequent escape from Purgatory, that trivial habits such as shaving had been shelved for a later time. She could not help but smile as she watched him jerk back and fling his hair every time he cut himself. "Having trouble, my love?"

At her voice, he sat up straighter, and threw her an aggravated glare, "No, everything is perfectly fine."

His face was half shaved, and he looked about ready to throw a tantrum. Walking to stand over him, she observed him trying not to flinch as he continued, knowing full well he was restraining himself to prove her wrong. After a moment, he rolled his eyes and let his hands fall to his knees. "Must you watch me so intently?"

She loved how miffed he could get at times. A quality of his that most people did not appreciate, but she could not help but find endearing. Sliding down to the floor, she maneuvered herself between his legs, resting on her knees before him. Once adjusted, she held out her hand, "Give it to me."

Huffing, he did as she asked, and handed her the blade. Miss Mills had attempted to give him some sort of modern technology that she stated would make this process easier, but Ichabod had flat refused. He stated that he was perfectly capable of doing it the way he always had. At that statement, Katrina had laughed. Ichabod was adept at many things, but shaving himself was not one of them. There was rarely an occasion where he did not escape without shedding at least a small amount of blood. "I was accomplishing the task just fine on my own."

Reaching her hand up to wipe at the blood on the side of his cheek, she brought it into his view. "I can see that."

Once more he rolled his eyes. "Well, it was not my fault. You were distracting me with your-your..."

As he waved his hands up and down at her body, she released a laugh. "My what?"

Another huff later, "You know very well what."

Indeed she did. Since her return, Ichabod had spared no time in expressing his displeasure with her absence from him. Her husband had always been insatiable, but their time apart had only worsened his condition. Something she found she rather enjoyed. "I can always change into the clothes Miss Mills acquired for me."

Moving as if to stand, she inwardly smiled as his arms shot out to pull her back down. "No!"

Clearing his throat, he finished. "That will not be necessary."

Settling back into place before him, she reached her hand up once more to his face. "Since I am the cause of your troubles, I suppose it is my duty to correct my awful infliction upon you."

With a simple thought and touch of her hand, his skin healed. Frowning, he brought his hand up to replace hers, eyes widening as he did so. Ichabod had not hidden his excitement at her magic after their reunion, keeping her up til odd hours asking her question after question. His giddiness at being married to a witch bringing her more joy than she ever could have imagined. For the first time in their marriage, there was complete honesty between them. No more secrets. "And here I thought I was special and healed faster than others all those years."

Beginning her task, she brought the blade up to his throat. "I'm glad you know the truth now. We would not want that head of yours to get any bigger than it already is, now would we?"

Raising her eyebrows at him, she laughed at his inability to respond, what with the blade so tight against his throat. His eyes, however, spoke volumes.

Scraping the blade down his neck, she dipped it in the water, repeating the process until her task was finished. Finally, she laid the blade next to the bowl, and reached to pick up the towel beside him. Wiping the residual water left behind from his neck, she checked over her work. Satisfied, she looked up to his eyes, only to find him staring intently at her. Releasing a slightly self-conscious laugh, she asked, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Not hesitating, he brought his hand up to her neck and spoke, "You're beautiful."

Ichabod always had a way of catching her off guard. Whether it was with a look or his words, he always made her feel so special. As if she were the only woman in the world. "I did not think I could love you anymore than I already did. It's quite astonishing."

Her heart had picked up its pace as she smiled at him. "I love you too, Ichabod. Always."

Leaning forward, he kissed her, and she knew. This war may bring many trials to them, but as long as she and her love were together, nothing could defeat them.


End file.
